by Mia Sheridan
I woke to the delicious feel of Livvy's hands on my cock. Moaning, I pressed myself more firmly into her hand, sliding between her grip. Oh God, yes. "I want you," she whispered. "Can you . . . I mean . . ."
I let out a tortured chuckle, my voice thick with sleep. "God, yes. Can't you tell?"
Before I could move, she climbed on top of me, lowering herself onto my erection, sheathing me snugly as she let out a long moan. "God, you feel good," she breathed. "We fit so—" That thought ended on a gasp as she started to move. I gripped her hips, dug my fingers into the soft skin of her ass as she rode me, up, down, gliding slowly, gracefully. Whereas our first time had felt wild, desperate, this lovemaking was slow, dreamy. Except for the quickened beat of my heart, I still felt half-awake, drifting in an erotic fantasy that might be real and might not. The lights in the courtyard had been turned off so the only light shining in the room now was that of the full, round moon. The dim yellow glow bathed Livvy in shadows and pale yellow light, made her look ethereal, a goddess with flowing hair and alabaster skin. Even the moon loved her. How could it not?
The sheer curtains billowed in the heightened breeze coming off of the water, and in the silence of the night, the waves could be heard crashing on the shore, pounding, rhythmic, like the blood through my veins.
The pleasure rose, my body meeting her thrusts of its own accord. I let it. There was no thought, no holding back, only the giving in, the surrender. She moved faster, rising and falling, leaning forward so I could suck at her nipples as she gasped and moaned, crying out her pleasure, which in turn brought on my own orgasm. The pleasure washed through me so intensely I bucked my hips, my fingers digging more firmly into her hips as she collapsed on top of me, breathing harshly, our skin stuck together.
I brought my arms around her, my breath gusting over her hair, our heartbeats pounding. We dozed, or maybe we didn't. Time stretched, dreamy and unreal. I stroked her hair, massaging her hips, the place where I'd surely bruised her. She'd wear the evidence of this night on her body in the morning, and at the half-formed thought, a fierce surge of satisfaction, of possession, surged through me. But something about the thought also caused a feather of unease to waft over my skin. In the morning . . . Ah God.
"Livvy," I rasped.
She stirred on top of me. "Hmm," a contented cat purr as she snuggled into my chest. We were still connected.
"I have to tell you something."
She stilled, and I sensed a higher alertness in her, the subtle spice of fear. She lifted her head, her eyes a deep midnight blue in the low light. She traced my lips, kissing me softly and running her thumb over my cheekbone. "No, not tonight. Tonight is only about us, nothing more. Let it all fall away. I know things will change tomorrow. I know. But please, this is ours. This night will always be ours."
A large wave crashed, the sound reverberating through the room as the curtains billowed in a gust of wind once again, bringing the scent of salt and sand, lush vegetation. It mixed with the smell of sex in the room, of the way our bodies combined to form the singular scent of us. I stared in her beseeching eyes. "Okay," I murmured. Tomorrow then. Tonight the rest would fall away . . .
The ocean surged and retreated below us, and Livvy and I spent the hours of darkness that were ours in fits of sleep and bursts of pleasure. I woke her with my tongue between her legs as she gripped my hair and writhed against my face, crying out so loudly that I growled against her flesh, causing her to jolt and gasp. Then pushing into her softness, the long rolls of climax overtaking me before I'd begun to thrust.
As the sky changed to a softer shade of black, Livvy returned the favor, bringing me from the depths of slumber with her mouth on my hardened flesh, her hands under my thighs. I moaned, a sound that was half pleasure, half disbelief. I hadn't known my body was capable of a night like this. Afterward, we curled in to each other, my body spooned around hers, my palm cupping her breast.
This night will always be ours.
This night will always be ours.
I came to slowly, hours later as the sun broke over the mountains, spilling light into the room. Sometime during the night, I'd turned toward the window. I rolled, drowsily, seeking Livvy, but I was in bed alone. Jolting, I sat up, called her name, my voice gritty with sleep, my eyes moving quickly around the room. Her shoes were no longer by the door.
She'd left without telling me.
She was gone.
And I couldn't fucking let her get to Alec before me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Livvy
"Gracias," I murmured, stepping from the mule-drawn cart I'd been riding in next to the old man for the past several hours.
"Con mucho gusto!" he sang happily, lifting the reins and spurring the animals on as I stood, watching him go. A lump sat heavily in my chest, but I forced myself to swallow it, to lift my feet and begin walking toward Palomino.
That morning, I'd gathered my clothes, my eyes lingering hungrily on Thomas as he lay sleeping soundly in the bed where we'd made love all night. He'd been on his stomach, the sheet barely covering the muscled globes of his ass, his arms hugging the pillow under his head so his smooth back was all planes and ridges. He was gorgeous, a male god, lying in the moonlight like that, and it was how I wanted to remember him. I had held back the tears that threatened as I'd opened the door as quietly as I could and scooted between the crack, shutting it just as silently behind me. If I made the slightest noise and Thomas didn't wake, it was only because he'd exerted so much energy the night before and gotten so little sleep. My body felt heavy with exhaustion, and achy from all the times Thomas had been inside me. A part of me gloried in the feminine sensation of having been repeatedly filled, thoroughly pleasured, wonderfully used. But the other part cringed at the reminder each time I moved, that the night before was the only one I would get. I hadn't been able to bear the thought of waking in the morning and having him look me in the eye as he said as much. So I'd taken the coward's way out. I would always have that night. Not the bleakness of goodbye, but the joyful recollection.
But I was going to be brave in one aspect at least—I was going to find Alec and face him. I was too close not to and frankly, I had nowhere else to go. I knew, however, the purpose of facing him was for me, and only me. The truth that I didn't love Alec enough to spend my life with him had been skating at the edges of my awareness for a long time. Alec's disappearance had caused me to put aside those feelings of doubt as my own need to rescue him had risen inside, casting out anything else. That truth had finally made itself fully known last night as I'd given myself wholly and completely to another man—not just my body, but my heart. I'd shared myself in a way I'd never shared myself before, but with a man who lived anywhere and everywhere, a man who wasn't available to me, but a man I was in love with all the same.
I still wanted to know why Alec had left, and I still cared about him enough to help him if he needed it. If he'd made mistakes and panicked, I would forgive him. If he was hurt, I would help him. And then we'd go our separate ways. Tears gathered at the backs of my eyes, dreams I'd held so dear, drifting away and out of reach. I let them go, knowing that to attempt to gather them back would be settling for less. I hadn't known there was more before this trip, but now I did. Because of Thomas, now I did.
It will change everything, he'd said. Did he think I didn't know that? Did he think I didn't understand how much more painful a goodbye was going to be after a night like the one we'd shared? I'd known, and I'd been willing anyway. More than willing.
I'd taken my passport out of his pocket and enough money to get me to Palomino. From there, I'd have to wing it. At least the weather was beautifully warm if I had to sleep on the beach until communication and travel were fully restored. I groaned internally. Please don't let me have to sleep on the beach.
Thankfully, the woman in the lobby had spoken some broken English, and I'd been able to ask if there was a way to hitch a ride to Palomino. I hadn't understood the thinning of her lips and t
he quick glance toward the stairs that led to the room where Thomas still slept, but it didn't matter. She'd taken my arm and led me outside where an old man was hitching up a wagon filled with produce and had spoken to him in Spanish. "He will take you most of the way there," she'd said, and so I'd ridden in the bumpy cart, my body sore and my heart aching as the hotel where I'd spent the most glorious night of my life disappeared in the distance and the sun crested the horizon.
I followed the signs to Palomino, walking along the beach where I could, the smell of the ocean calming, the sun warm upon my back. I wondered what Thomas had done when he'd woken to find me gone. Had he been upset? Panicked? Or had he realized that me leaving was for the best? I wasn't sure of his feelings for me, but surely he'd rather avoid a goodbye. Surely he'd rather avoid the awkward discussion about how his job prevented him from making a commitment to any woman. And I wanted more. I wanted the commitment, the family. That hadn't changed. The only thing that had changed was I no longer wanted the man who'd once promised to give it to me. At least that was going to make it easier to confront Alec. Whatever he told me, I knew I was going to be fine. The empty hollow inside me was for Thomas.
It was mid-afternoon when I arrived in Palomino. It looked much like the town we'd stayed in the night before. The damage had been severe, but people were picking up the pieces, cleanup was obviously underway despite the lack of outside assistance, and just like in the other town, people sat outside buildings, selling the things they still had to sell.
I attempted to speak to a couple of women on the street, but when I spoke in English, they looked at me blankly and shook their heads. I walked farther into town, trying again with a woman sweeping the sidewalk in front of a red building. "Excuse me, do you speak English?"
The woman stopped sweeping, glancing up, a look of confusion coming into her eyes. "We have spoken before. How may I help you?"
I frowned. "I . . . what?" I shook my head. Perhaps the woman had misspoken because she wasn't fluent in English. "Ah, I'm looking for someone. A, ah, blond man. Tall. He isn't from here."
The woman frowned then laughed in what looked like confusion. "You are confused? You are staying at the orange cottage up there." She pointed up a narrow street behind where she was standing.
What was going on? The woman gave me an uneasy glance and went back to her sweeping. I stood for a moment, debating what to ask her, but she'd given me a location—more than I'd expected—so I mumbled a thank you and headed toward the street where she'd said I'd find an orange cottage.
The cottage was easily found, the only one on the block that was a bright, tangerine color. I stood under a palm tree across the street, a bloom of fear rising inside me. Something wasn't right. I suddenly had a terrible feeling, and my instincts told me to run away, to hide.
But where? I had nowhere to go. You're being silly, Livvy. You came all this way for this moment. And now you're filled with anxiety because you're finally going to face it. I had barely slept the night before. Surely my extreme emotions were a result of that as well. Deep breath, you can do this.
Gathering all of my courage, I walked across the narrow street and knocked on the door of the cottage. A bird squawked somewhere nearby, the sound of the ocean was a dull roar in the background, and my heart slammed against my ribs. I heard footsteps and the door opened, air whooshing from my mouth as I exhaled the breath I'd been holding.
Alec stood there. Tall, fit, more handsome than I'd remembered him. He was tan, his hair blonder, his blue eyes bright and clear in his sun-darkened face. For a moment, he simply stared at me, then his face broke into a smile, his white teeth flashing. "We've been waiting for you, Livvy," he said, smiling bigger. We?
I blinked, shock making me feel weak. My hand found the doorframe, and I used it to steady me. "Alec?" I whispered. This seemed all wrong. Why was he smiling? Why didn't he seem surprised to see me? Confusion gripped me, and I gave my head a shake.
Alec craned his neck, looking around me at the empty street beyond, frowning before he gripped my arm, pulling me gently inside. "Livvy, come in. You look like you're about to faint." I stumbled inside, and he closed the door behind me. The cottage was open and bright, but sort of shabby too. The furniture looked old and there was the faint scent of mildew in the air. But the back wall featured a sliding glass door that I could see led straight down a slope to the white sand beach and the shining blue sea beyond, a gorgeous panorama.
I stopped, pulling my arm free of Alec's grip. "What's going on, Alec?"
Alec thinned his lips, shaking his head, his expression sympathetic. "Ah, Livvy, poor, stupid Livvy."
I blinked, flinched, turned my head to look out the window for a second before looking back to Alec. "You left me."
"Well, to be fair, I was never really with you."
"What?"
There was a drink sitting on the table, condensation on the glass, and Alec picked it up, taking a sip. He held it out to me in question. "Cocktail?"
"No." I shook my head. "What's happening? The last time I talked to you, you were flying to Miami on business."
Alec took another sip of his drink, sighed, and then placed it on the table. He opened his mouth to speak when there was movement outside the sliding glass door. Two men were walking toward the cottage from the beach, one running to keep up with the other who was walking with a fast, powerful stride. Thomas. I sucked in a breath. Oh God, he must have been right behind me. But who was the other shorter, heavier, Colombian man? I stared as they approached, Alec turning and watching as well. I stood, frozen, my throat dry, my head buzzing.
"There's my business partner." Alec slid the door open, greeting the Colombian man with a handshake and then opening the door wider for Thomas to enter. "You've gotta be Brody. Nice work, man." He laughed as Thomas—Brody?—entered the room, his eyes ghosting over me quickly, his expression blank. What was happening?
"Drink?" Alec asked the man I'd known as Thomas for the past week.
"No," he said, his voice wooden.
The Colombian man stared at me for a moment. He was dressed in Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt, a gun clearly visible in the waistband of his shorts. "Whoa." He laughed. "That's wild," he said, speaking in English, though his accent was strong. I frowned, shaking my head, but he didn't bother to explain, and instead headed toward the kitchen. "Got some food in here?" he called. No one answered him, but I heard what I thought sounded like a refrigerator opening. I turned to Thomas. "Brody? What is happening here?" I practically cried.
"Well," Alec said, stretching his neck to the side, cracking it, "I was planning on marrying you and using all that beautiful money of yours to buy into a very lucrative business here in Colombia. Sadly"—he took another drink—"I flew here for the week to tie up some business odds and ends before the wedding, and got trapped—and almost killed I might add—by a fucking tsunami." He threw the remainder of his drink back.
He glanced at Thomas. "Luckily, my business partner Luis in there"—he nodded his head toward the kitchen where the sounds of dishes clinking could be heard—"has a badass for a cousin, and was able to get the word to him that we were hiring out for a job. You, brought to me." He raised his glass. "Job well done, Brody, my man."
Thomas-Brody didn't respond but I noticed a tiny tic in his jaw.
Alec's business partner was Thomas's cousin? But Thomas had said . . .
My heart had dropped to my feet, and my head whirled. I stared at the man who'd led me here, the man I'd thought I knew, but didn't. Who cared what he'd said? He . . . he'd been hired by Alec? He'd lied to me all this time. Made me think I was the one who hired him, when it was really Alec and Thomas’s cousin? I didn't understand. Thomas-Brody stared back at me, no emotion in his expression, no attempt at an explanation. I felt like I was choking. Dying.
"Why, Alec?" I asked, my voice thick, croaky. "If our marriage was going to be a sham, why bring me here?"
"Because I still need your money." I hadn't looked away from Thomas,
and I saw the minute narrowing of his eyes. "We all need your money, isn't that right, Brody, my boy?"
Thomas's eyes snapped to Alec, but he didn't respond. All? My face felt hot, flushed, and I'd started shaking. I felt like I was in some horrible nightmare I couldn't wake from. When Thomas looked back at me, I couldn't disguise the raw hurt welling in my chest. "Why?" I asked brokenly.
Thomas just stared at me, his shoulder resting casually against the wall, not saying a word. Another crack of agony ripped through my heart. How could he be staring so coldly at me that way after . . . everything? Alec was looking back and forth between the two of us. He laughed. "Ah, this is rich. Did you bang her, too?"
Thomas's eyes snapped to Alec's, and he finally broke his silence. "Watch it," he said and his voice sounded like steel.
Alec laughed again, raising his hands. "All right, all right. You're right, no need to disrespect our big payday. Even if she was a cold lay compared to her sister."
My sister?
Cold lay?
I was going to be sick.
"What are you doing in there, Harper?"
I heard someone's footsteps from what must be a bedroom, and then the door opened and a woman walked out. I let out a gasp, stumbling backward and grasping a nearby table so I wouldn't fall. The woman looked exactly like me. She was me. No. No. My sister. My twin sister?
The little girl from my hazy memories. She hadn't been younger as I'd thought. She'd been my identical twin. My family.
"How?" I breathed. I didn't know what to say, what to ask, was completely lost, in shock.
My sister—my sister!—raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms and smiling—though coldly—at me, a sinister tilt of her full lips. My lips. Everything . . . everything was the same, and I couldn't stop staring at her, my heart thundering in my ears, blood rushing to my extremities. "Hello, Livvy." She looked at Alec. "Pour me a drink, babe. I'm gonna need one."